Yo-yos and Aesops
by infy
Summary: A collection of Muneshige/Ginchiyo one-shots and drabbles. Occasionally set in the Pokemon Conquest AU.
1. Aesop

The fire pit served as the only light in the camp. As Muneshige looked toward the hazy sky, the moon was nowhere to be found. The scouting party should return soon, but for the moment the only ones in the camp were him and his wife. He cast a glance to his side, and she was flipping casually through a book. He wasn't sure what it was, but she didn't seem very invested in it. He took a closer look to see she was just looking at the pictures. "Ginchiyo...?" he ventured.

She didn't look up. "What is it?"

"You won't get much out of the story if you're just looking at the pictures."

"The story doesn't interest me. It's poorly written," she replied quickly. "I read part of it and was bored to tears."

"What was it about, then?" Muneshige smirked, leaning on his hand. He had always loved hearing her talk about the stories she'd read. Even if she claimed they were boring and uninteresting, she always had some way of bringing life to them. He felt as though he could watch her tell stories for hours. She shut the book with an exasperated sigh.

"You don't want to hear it, it's stupid." She ran her hand through Luxray's fur, sound asleep beside her, and her eyes didn't look up to meet Muneshige's. He grinned and laughed slightly.

"Try me."

With another heavy sigh, Ginchiyo handed the book over to Muneshige. He took a glance at the cover. On it was a picture of a Shuckle and a Lopunny that looked like they were having a race. The scenario seemed familiar to Muneshige. The fire dimly illuminated the name of the author. Aesop.

"Oh, I know this person. He wrote the one about the Glameow and the Meowth. The one where the Mightyenas were chasing them-"

"And the Meowth was eaten because he took too long thinking of a plan," Ginchiyo interrupted him, her hand not leaving Luxray's mane. It rolled over and nuzzled its head on her lap, and she gave a hint of a smile.

"You seem to know a lot of these stories," Muneshige smiled, scooting in closer to her.

"Daddy-" she paused a moment. "My father would tell me these stories all the time. I don't know if it's because he wanted to teach me lessons or because he thought they were something I'd enjoy, but I know almost all of them."

Muneshige leaned in closer and brushed her arm with his hand. "Tell me one, then."

Ginchiyo looked down at the ground in thought. "Perhaps... one. Just one," she cleared her throat before beginning. "Once upon a time there was a Durant. And the Durant worked very very hard all through the year. One day a lazy Kricketune approached the Durant and said, 'My friend, you work much too hard to find food for the winter. The summer is still young, you must enjoy it!'"

"Sound advice," Muneshige replied with a goofy grin, only to receive a light chop on the top of his head from Ginchiyo. He frowned.

"Don't interrupt. It's rude," she growled. Removing her hand, she continued. "Anyway, the Durant said, 'as you wish,' and continued to collect food, knowing that the winter will come and there will be no food for the Kricketune. Sure enough, the week before winter, the Durant was nestled snugly in his house while the Kricketune was out searching for food. He couldn't find any because it was already all gone, and sure enough, the Kricketune starved to death that winter." She shut her eyes and raised a matter-of-fact finger and recited without any hesitation the moral of the story as if it were a motto to live by. "Do not put off until tomorrow what you can do today, for today is naught but yesterday's tomorrow." She finally opened her eyes and met his. They locked eyes for a moment before she blushed and looked away. "See? It's stupid."

Muneshige smiled again and put his hand on her head, ruffling her hair. "I didn't think so. Do you know any others?"

Ginchiyo rolled her eyes. "I know all the others. I've been told those stories since I was a girl. There's another one about a Luxray and a Natu. One day the Luxray was sleeping, and the Natu strolled in and thought it would be funny to play a joke to see if the Luxray would wake up. So the Natu..." Muneshige's attention span slowly waned as she told her tale, and his concentration drifted instead to the way she held herself when she told a story. His focus rested on her entirely, so much so that he forgot she was even speaking. The way her lips moved mesmerized him for a moment; he had never really noticed how naturally full and soft-looking they were until he stared right at them. Ginchiyo's voice when she spoke to him sounded so gentle, and he felt her harsh tone melt away as their conversations continued on-those were among his fondest memories, staying up all night just talking about trivial nonsense with her. While her voice usually held a harsh sting, it seemed after they had been alone for a while she began to speak to him softly, without any of the usual fiery bite in her words. She really did have a beautiful voice at the right moment.

The dim light of the fire cast an orange glow on the skin of her face and illuminated the shine in her eyes. Those big, beautiful, intense brown eyes. He found himself lost in their brightness, even in the darkness of the camp, and he absentmindedly inched closer to her, as if he were being pulled in in by her gravity. Suddenly the melody stopped, and Muneshige blinked.

Ginchiyo frowned after a moment of silence and repeated herself. "I said the moral is that even the weak and small may be of help to those much mightier than themselves."

There was a pause. She seemed as though she was looking for a response. Muneshige took a breath. "You have the most beautiful eyes I've ever seen."

Another beat, and even in the dark, Muneshige could see her face grow red in embarrassment. She opened her mouth, then closed it, only making small stuttering noises as she tried to figure out what to say in response. "I-I... y-you're... you're an idiot...! You wanted to hear a story and you didn't even listen to it!"

Muneshige raised his brows. "Sure I did. The Luxray wanted grapes, so he tried to get them off the tree, and the Natu laughed at him so he gave up."

Her eyes narrowed. "Not even close. That's the last time you'll get a story out of me."

Muneshige frowned. "Don't be that way," he raised a hand and tucked a stray hair behind her ear. His frown once again drew back up into a warm smile as their eyes met. He cupped her cheek in his hand. "What are you blushing for, anyway, hm?" She took a nervous breath in response, and he laughed. "I'm kidding, of course," he spoke gently as if he were speaking to a frightened kitten, and touched his forehead to hers. Their eyes met once again and her pupils grew as she hesitantly inched her lips closer to his. He took the hint and drew her into him, and their lips met in a soft embrace.


	2. Naotsugu

The shavings of wood fell from the steps leading up to Tachibana castle in an even rhythm. Naotsugu's eyes were fixated on them as they fell one by one from the block of wood his brother fiddled with in the palm of his hand; he expertly peeled off each layer strip-by-strip with a fascinating mix of speed and precision.

"I'm trying to make this look circular, and I don't know if it's going to work or not." Muneshige bit his lip and twirled the knife in his fingers absentmindedly. Naotsugu glanced up at him, his attention drawn away from the flakes of wood at their feet.

"I, uh... I'm sure it'll work," he replied quietly, twiddling his thumbs.

Muneshige handed over the wood to him. "Here. You try."

"Oh, oh no, I... I couldn't. I-I mean... It's your project, after all." Naotsugu stammered, waving his hands back and forth in surprise at the offer. Muneshige let slip a small chuckle; his brother never was much good at hiding his emotions. He was still a child in that way, but Muneshige didn't mind. He had proven himself a man in battle many a time."I don't even know what you're making, brother!"

"Neither do I," Muneshige replied matter-of-factly, pushing the wood closer to his brother's hands. His voice had a lilting, lighthearted quality to it, as usual. "Just make this side a circle." Naotsugu gingerly took the wood in his hands and ran a thumb across the rounded edge. Smooth. Muneshige handed him the knife, and Naotsugu began carefully stripping the wood.

"It doesn't have to be perfect, you know." Muneshige smirked, as his brother's concentration narrowed further on the piece of wood. Muneshige made another sound signifying that he wanted to speak, but he was quickly shushed by Naotsugu.

Minutes had passed, and Naotsugu had made approximately 10 careful strikes with the knife,_ a pitiful total_, Muneshige thought; by now he would have had the entire other side done. Muneshige leaned back on his hands, not wanting to break the silence or his brother's concentration, or any combination of the two. The need for a conversation got the better of him, and he cleared his throat, causing Naotsugu to jump and accidentally cut his thumb with the knife. The block of wood fell on the step below them.

"Ah, gosh darn it..." Naotsugu sighed, shaking his hand around, trying to shrug off the sharp pain. Muneshige took his brother's hand and glanced at the deep, clean slice in his thumb. _Wow, I didn't think I had sharpened that knife that much._

"You're certainly gun-shy today." Muneshige chuckled, ruffling his brother's sandy brown hair. "Here, come inside; I can bandage that up for you."

Naotsugu quickly and violently shook his head. "I'm fine, really."

"Nonsense, you cut yourself. It might get infected. Just come inside. It won't take more than a second."

"No, really, brother, I'm-"

"Coming inside."

Naotsugu sighed. Never argue with your big brother.

The two men made their way into the connecting room where Ginchiyo was splitting her attention between a book and a small kitten huddled near her. The book was rather large, and she had to sit in a lotus position to keep her legs from falling asleep.

"Ginchiyo?" Muneshige poked his head into the room, Naotsugu close behind. "Naotsugu cut his thumb on a knife. Do we have any bandages?"

She glanced up to see Muneshige at the door, and Naotsugu crouched behind his brother, holding onto Muneshige's vest with his good hand, and she rolled her eyes before returning them to her book. "Does he know how to not get into trouble?"

"Naotsugu?" Muneshige smiled at him, and Naotsugu's head jerked up nervously to look at him.

"Well... uh... gee... I..." Naotsugu stammered, his glances darting back and forth from his sister-in-law, to his brother, to his thumb, and back again like a wary bird.

"I was joking, calm down," Muneshige laughed, entering the room and pulling a small box from a shelf. Naotsugu followed him gingerly into the room and huddled next to him in the corner, watching him open the box and prepare a bandage. Muneshige motioned for him to go sit down, and with much hesitation, Naotsugu finally knelt across from Ginchiyo, who cast him a dubious glance, his hands in his lap.

"What?"

"N-nothing, milady..."

"You looked like you were staring at me or something." Ginchiyo raised an eyebrow.

Naotsugu struggled to meet her piercing gaze for even a moment, and when he finally did, he looked away and blushed. "Well, golly, Lady Ginchiyo, you sure do look awful pretty today."

Ginchiyo spat in frustration and went back to her book. "Go fellate a cactus."

"Oh..." he hung his head dejectedly as Muneshige returned with a freshly dressed bandage and sat down between Naotsugu and Ginchiyo with an exasperated huff.

"Ginchiyo, don't be rude." he returned his attention to his brother, wrapping the bandage tightly around Naotsugu's thumb. "You should know better than to compliment her."

Naotsugu gave a shy smile. He glanced over at Ginchiyo once more, at the book she was reading. _Kazashi no Hime. Hm. I've never heard of that one._ "Gee, I didn't know you could read, milady."

Ginchiyo glowered at him. "Excuse me?"

Naotsugu's face flushed, and he threw his hands in the air, haphazardly waving them around as if he were hoping that they would deflect her glare. "Uh..! N-no! That's not... I didn't mean that to be an insult, I was just...!"

Muneshige interrupted his brother's frantic stammering. "I think what Naotsugu meant was that he didn't know you _liked_ reading. And to see a woman in this era enjoying a book is a very rare and precious thing. Right?" he turned to Naotsugu who said nothing, and only nodded vigorously. "What are you reading, my dear?" Muneshige smiled at his wife, and Naotsugu tried to smile with the same amount of charisma and charm, but his face was stiff. _It's probably because it's so cold out. I wonder how he does it. I must look awful goofy._

Ginchiyo ignored her idiot brother-in-law and faced Muneshige when she spoke. Naotsugu didn't mind; he had always had trouble with making direct eye contact with people in casual conversation. "It's called _Kazashi no Hime_. It's a foolish story, I don't even know why I'm reading it. It passes the time." she shut the cover to the book. "Something about a girl who likes flowers. I would much rather read _Journey to the West _again."

Muneshige laughed. "You've read that too many times. It was only written a few years ago and you've read it cover to cover three times already."

Naotsugu's eyes widened in amazement. "Three times, milady? You must really like it. What's it about?"

"I could tell you. Or you could read it yourself. How about the latter?" Ginchiyo picked up the softly mewling kitten next to her and stroked its head, her eyes still not meeting Naotsugu's.

"Well, it's in Chinese." Muneshige sighed., ignoring his wife's usual lack of tact. He was used to it by now. "Naotsugu can't read or speak Chinese."

"Can you read Chinese, brother?" Naotsugu tilted his head. Muneshige finally put the last fastener on the bandage, admired his handiwork, and then sat back next to his wife, across from Naotsugu.

"Yes. Lord Dosetsu taught me. He taught both of us, considering he knew we were going to lead the clan."

Naotsugu smiled broadly and raised his eyebrows. "Gee whiz, that's amazing! But then, I guess that means I can't read that book you were talking about, milady."

"Golly gee, that sucks." Ginchiyo mocked him, failing once more to meet Naotsugu's gaze as she concentrated on the wriggling cat in her lap. He frowned.

"Can you tell me about it?"

"No." Ginchiyo responded without hesitation, before receiving an elbow in the side from Muneshige. "Ow...! Fine." Ginchiyo "lightly" punched her husband in the shoulder to get even—he grunted loudly—before beginning her tale. Naotsugu only chuckled nervously and stared at his knees. _She's such a wiseguy. I must be a real goof to get her to treat me like that. Gosh, I really have to get better at talking to people besides Muneshige. Why can't I be more like my brother...?_

Ginchiyo cleared her throat, and finally looked at Naotsugu; he wasn't expecting it, so he quickly dropped his gaze to the cat in Ginchiyo's lap. "_Journey to the West _is about the Monkey, and how he and his friends travel from China to India searching for the holy scriptures of Buddhism. It sounds boring, and it is."

Naotsugu raised his hand and waited.

Ginchiyo glanced at Muneshige, who shrugged, and then back to Naotsugu again. "What?"

He lowered his hand. "Um, this might be kinda-sorta silly for me to ask, but if it's so boring, why did you read it three times?"

Muneshige glanced over at his wife. "Sharp as a tack, that one."

Ginchiyo huffed.


	3. Frozen Solid

The wind and snow swirled in miniature torrents, and they tore through the fabric of Muneshige's clothing viciously. He trudged slowly through the heavy snow, his boots gaining more and more weight as the snow piled. He shut his eyes and shrugged his shoulders; his clothing was thin enough that he felt the biting chill on his very skin every step he took. He felt as though he might even get frostbite just by being out in the cold so long; he had walked a good few miles, and he was more exhausted than he had been in a long, long while. Finally reaching the gates of the castle, one of his retainers met him halfway to the door.

"My lord," the young man piped up, rather loudly to raise his voice over the sound of the wind. "You must be freezing. Allow me to take your horse back to the stables."

"I didn't bring one, my friend, but thank you anyway," Muneshige's laugh remained light-hearted despite him being convinced that his ears had already fallen off. "It seemed warm enough when I left, but I suppose it was a silly mistake not bringing a horse in this weather."

"Milady seemed worried about you," the retainer sighed, rubbing the back of his neck. "She sent me a few hours ago to wait for you near the castle surrounds."

"In this weather...?" Muneshige raised an eyebrow, and sighed with a hearty laugh. "She's a little bit neurotic, isn't she. My apologies, you didn't have to wait for me."

"It was of course my pleasure, my lord."

Muneshige gave his retainer a quick nod, and he set off in the other direction to make sure everything was in check. The darkness of the night sky was only illuminated by a few oil lamps interspersed around the castle entrance, and as Muneshige entered his chambers, only one candle was lit. He nearly tripped over her at first, but a glance to the side revealed Ginchiyo at the table, an unopened bottle of sake at her right, and two empty ochoko in front of her. Her head was buried in her crossed arms on the table and her chest slowly rose and fell in deep, even breaths. Fast asleep. He stared at her a moment before kneeling at the table and stroking her hair. _She must have been waiting for me, _he thought. _She wanted to have a drink with me when I came back. _A mix of guilt and a slight admiration for her attempt at being romantic struck him, and he chuckled lightly as he rubbed her back in an attempt to wake her. "Ginchiyo...? Wake up, my dear, I'm home." Any attempts to rouse her he dared to try were unsuccessful-the most that she ever did was let out a soft mumble.

Muneshige smiled at the sight. She looked so peaceful, he almost wanted to leave her be. He couldn't do that, though. The cold, hard ground is no place for someone like her to have to sleep. "Alright, then," he whispered, lifting her into his arms. Ginchiyo's head rolled over to nuzzle into the crook of his neck, and she let out a small noise as she wriggled a bit before sighing and relaxing into his body. Muneshige tried not to laugh; his skin must still be cold. He tried to make his steps smooth and careful so he didn't wake her up as he carried her to the futon in the corner of the room. He slowly knelt and set her down on her back, and she instinctively rolled onto her side. Smiling softly, he draped a blanket over her and gently kissed her cheek before standing to remove the heavy armor on his shoulders and chest...

"Muneshige..." he heard her mumble as she nuzzled into the pillow, and he paused a moment to look at her. She wasn't calling his name-she was simply saying it, as if she enjoyed the feel of his name on her tongue as much as he did hers. His smile grew wider. It was one of the only times he had ever seen her at peace. She had always been a naturally stern woman-when they shared a cup of tea in the morning, she was tense, when she was in battle, she was tense, and even while they made love, she seemed to be tense. It was only now, by the light of a single candle, that her sleeping face didn't seem to have a permanent scowl. Dressed now in his warmest kimono, Muneshige quietly slunk into bed next to her, wrapping an arm around her waist. She stirred.

"...Muneshige...?" she said his name again, more coherently.

"Did I wake you?"

"Yes." she rolled over to face him, moving his arm off her waist. She yawned, moving a hand to cover her mouth, and shot him a sleepy scowl. "Your hands are frozen solid. Couldn't you be a little bit more considerate and warm them up before you start putting them all over me?"

Muneshige grinned to lighten the mood. "So you're _not_ objected to me putting them all over you, then?"

Ginchiyo raised her brow. "Pervert," she spat before rolling over again. "I'm still mad at you."

"Is that so...?" Muneshige leaned in closer, enough that the skin of his chest grazed her back, but he was careful not to move his hands near her. After all, they were frozen solid. "And why is that?"

"I waited up for you. We were supposed to have a drink together... maybe do other things. I don't know." Ginchiyo huffed, shutting her eyes.

"And why this all of a sudden? It's not a birthday, an anniversary, a holiday... you're never this romantic. I apologize if I assumed tonight wouldn't be any different."

"Yeah, well..." she trailed off, the feeling of her eyes being closed too good to concentrate on much else.

"I feel like it's more your fault for falling asleep," Muneshige teased. "Have I been working you too hard?" He slowly snaked his arms around her once again, and after a few moments, she rolled over and relaxed into him, snuggling her head into his chest without saying a word. Muneshige's eyes shut as well. "I suppose so." They remained there for a few minutes, nothing but silence passing between them, until Ginchiyo broke the silence.

"By the gods, how cold was it out there? You're completely frozen."

Muneshige shot her a lazy smile and opened his eyes halfway. "Yes. Yes I am. Kind of you to notice." He sneaked one of his hands up her back to tangle in the hair at the nape of her neck. "I'd be eternally grateful, milady, if you were to warm me in some way."

Ginchiyo rolled her eyes and looked up at her husband, smiling that charming smile yet again. She couldn't help but attempt to return it. "Damn you, must I do everything?" she muttered with a sigh, wrapping her arms around him and pulling him into a sleepy kiss.


	4. It's Not Your Fault

She had seen him on their hill, the one they used to play together on when they were children, and where they stargazed, where they sat and watched the clouds float away along with their worries. She didn't know why she knew he'd be here, but something told her it was his favorite place to go when he needed to think.

"I thought I'd find you here," she finally spoke. Her words were soft, gentle. Nothing like usual. She had to be cautious now. She remembered how fragile she was right after Dosetsu died- even though she was sure he was strong, he still seemed listless after the battle that had taken place that day. Even though the victory was glorious, and the Shimazu were suppressed, and their lands were reclaimed at last, it seemed much less so after the loss of his father. She sat next to him, but at arm's length. She didn't want to smother him. He needed his space.

"_The Shimazu's advance has been stopped." Shigetane shrugged his shoulders forward, preparing to set off. "However, I expect there will be reinforcements. I will take it from here."_

"_Father, let me go with you, it may not be as you think." Muneshige said. Shigetane stopped in his tracks and clenched his fists. He refused to turn around. _

"_No, Munetora__, you are to remain here," he said through gritted teeth. "You are no longer a member of the Takahashi, I am no longer your father, and I will not have anything to do with you."_

_Muneshige stepped forward in protest. "Father, I should accept this as fate, but-" he was cut off as he was met with a hard sock to his jaw. Standing behind her husband, Ginchiyo's eyes widened as she watched silently; it was not her place to intervene. Muneshige staggered backward, his hand instinctively touching his face where he was hit._

He failed to look at her, only silently staring out at the stars peppering the vast sky, like the fireflies they used to catch when they were children. After a moment, he spoke quietly without averting his eyes. "..It seems you know me well."

A long, almost audible silence. She glanced over at him, and his eyes never wavered from the sky. "...About today-" she attempted to break the silence before his eyes met hers, and they seemed empty. Hollow. She found her words caught in her throat. It was mesmerizing to her how blank his expression was. There was no hint of the lighthearted smile she had always seen from him, and his emptiness stole her words from her. The silence returned before he spoke.

"It was the last time I ever spoke to him. My father. Or... whatever he would have wanted me to call him." He glanced back out at the scenery before him. Only a tiny sliver of moonlight shone down on them- it was a wonder they could see anything at all, and yet she knew his eyes had not changed. She searched her mind for something to say, something to ease the pain she knew he felt.

_Shigetane punched him again, knocking him to the ground, and Muneshige let out a grunt as he fell on his back. And yet, he didn't fight back, Ginchiyo noticed. Or maybe it was that he _couldn't _fight back. "I've told you once, and I will not tell you again. I am not your father!" Shigetane kicked him in his side, and he fell. One more kick, and Muneshige grunted loudly in pain, but he refused to get up and fight back, even though Ginchiyo knew that he could. His father's beating of him continued relentlessly, and Ginchiyo knew she had to speak up, say something to get him to stop. She opened her mouth, but nothing happened. All she could do was stare in horror._

"I can understand why you would be angry with him," she began, curling her knees up to her chest. "I would be angry too if my father-"

He shook his head. "That's not it. I'm angry because I'm not angry."

"...Come again?"

He sighed listlessly, flopping on his back into the cool grass of the hill, crossing his legs and resting the back of his head on his hands. "I should despise him for disowning me and claiming he would have nothing to do with me. And yet I don't, because he is my father. I am his flesh, his blood." He mumbled, no hint of emotion in his voice. Ginchiyo sat in silence and watched him speak, not sure what to say. She simply let him continue. "I've prided myself my entire life long to be strong, and yet, look at me," he paused a moment and rolled to face away from her with a sigh. She wanted so badly to console him, but she didn't. She had no idea why she didn't try. Perhaps it was because she knew it was going to be fruitless. "I am too weak to hate the man that I've aimed to please, and he tossed me aside like garbage once I finally got the opportunity to do so. All I wanted was for him to be proud of me," he said, his voice breaking, as if he was choking his words past a lump in his throat. His body curled. "And now look. I am the greatest warrior in the west, the valiant of Chinzei, one of the heads of the Tachibana clan... and I'm hollow, with nothing to show for it."

"Muneshige..." There was another pause, and Ginchiyo gathered up the courage to touch his arm gently. He slowly rolled back over to look at her, and took her hand in his, holding it delicately, like an egg he was afraid of dropping.

_Shigetane's face looked pained, almost as much as Muneshige's did, as he continued beating his son. And Muneshige didn't move, only coughed and sputtered as the kicks to his chest and abdomen finally stopped. "I've told you so many times that I will have nothing to do with you," Shigetane brusquely turned his back on Muneshige, as Ginchiyo knelt to help him up. He refused her advance-he slowly pushed himself up on his own, clutching his side and doubling over once he stood. Without a word he stood straight and brushed past Ginchiyo, lightly pushing her out of the way as he left. Ginchiyo cast a glance over to Shigetane, who had turned his back and was breathing heavily._

"I think..." he sat up straight to begin again, swallowing for a moment before continuing. "I think the worst part is that I have a desire to hate my father. I want so badly to hate him for what he's done to me, and yet I can't just discard the fact that he always was and always will be the man I strive to become." Ginchiyo once again found herself listening in silence. He spoke slowly, his words were pained. "I'm not upset with him, I'm upset with myself. I'm upset that I had managed to somehow destroy his faith in me, the one thing he gave me that I valued above everything else." He squeezed her hand, and there was such desperation in that one action that Ginchiyo had to take a breath. She placed her other hand on top of his, and he collected himself enough to continue. "And because I did so, he refused to let me accompany him, I could not save him, and my father died at the hands of the Shimazu. If it weren't for me..." he trailed off. His mouth opened, but no sound escaped, and she knew he was trying desperately to keep himself in check and not break down. Muneshige was never upset. He had no idea how to deal with it. All this time, he had shut himself off to his pain, and now it was coming back out full-force. And his pain reminded her of her own.

His next words struck her hard. He shut his eyes tightly and squeezed her hand, burying his face in his other hand. "I only always did what I thought would impress him. And I thought I had. Why, then... why doesn't he want me, Ginchiyo...?"

Ginchiyo took a breath. Perhaps simply knowing that he was not alone, that he had his wife at the very least, and that she knew how he felt, would console him. All she needed was to see the spark back in his eye. "Listen to me, Muneshige," she finally spoke, her voice soft and gentle. "I want to tell you a story."

Muneshige smiled slightly. A fake smile, and the sight almost caused Ginchiyo physical pain.

"...Another from your storybooks?" he mumbled.

She sighed. "No. This one... I wouldn't say I just made it up, but... it is based on a true story."

"... I see. Let's hear it, then."

Ginchiyo paused a moment, and curled her arms around her knees. She stared up at the moon, or what there was of it, and began her tale by clearing her throat. "Once upon a time, there was a little girl who grew up without a mother. She was told by everyone she knew that she looked just like her mother, but the girl had never seen her mother's face." She couldn't tell if Muneshige was listening or not. Usually when she told stories, he listened intently, but now Muneshige looked as though he was preoccupied with something else, just pretending he was listening to appease her. Usually that would have made her angry, but it was different this time. She let it slide, and continued. "And every time someone said something to her about it, she would ask her father, 'Daddy, where is my mother?' And he would just look at her and say that some children are blessed with both a mother and a father, and some children are not, and that was the way it is. Finally, one day, when she had come of age, the girl asked her father, 'Daddy, why is my mother not here?'"

She squeezed his hand, the pain her tale brought her becoming difficult to bear. He leaned in and put his other hand on her cheek. "Ginchiyo... if it's painful for you, you don't have to-"

She shook her head, touching his hand on her face. "No." Muneshige understood, withdrawing his hand, slowly ghosting across her cheek as he met her eyes. Her fist clenched, and she forced herself to take a deep breath before continuing. She had to be the strong one. Not just for her pride, but for him.

"That was when her father finally told her the truth. When the girl was born, her mother suffered severe complications. The doctors were able to save the girl, but her mother died giving birth to her," her chest heaved for a moment, but she quickly choked back her breath. She had never verbalized any of this. The story had always been something that was present in the back of her mind, nagging at her, and it wasn't until she chose to talk about it that it threatened to overwhelm her.

Muneshige sensed this-she was never good at hiding her emotions. He sensed she was pained, sensed the fear of being seen as weak for mourning over her mother. He took her hands in his, caressing the tops of her hands lightly with his thumbs. He knew at that moment that she had felt guilty for causing her mother's death. He saw it in her eyes, heard it in her voice. And he saw how hard she was trying to grin and bear it, to be the strong one, and how she was doing it for him. He squeezed her hand tightly, but he remained quiet so she could compose herself.

"The girl's father told her that it was the greatest gift her mother ever could have given her, that she was willing to exchange her life for the girl's. But the girl never saw it that way. She grew up jaded, knowing that if it weren't for her, her mother would still be alive and well."

It all hit Muneshige at once. Her grief, her misery that her mother's death had caused her created her entire personality. Her hatred of being weak. It wasn't her own honor she fought to protect-it was the sacrifice her mother made. Her obsession with valiance and honor on the battlefield was simply a ruse to protect her mother's sacrifice, to make sure her mother didn't die for a failure. He froze, unsure of what to do or say for her. Their feelings were so similar- for the first time he could see why it was that she obsessed over her strength; the guilty conscience he felt for being unable to protect his father nearly drove him to madness, most certainly to obsession, but his wife had already gotten there. She was a shell of a woman, driven by guilt and the desire to prove herself worthy to her father and mother, even if they weren't able to see her deeds. He was just like her. They both lived to make their parents proud.

"Perhaps if her mother had been there with them, her father would not have died as soon as he did, and she wouldn't be alone." She finally choked out, her knuckles white as her hands squeezed her husband's. She swallowed the lump in her throat and took a deep breath. Muneshige had to take a moment compose himself when his eyes met hers-there was such a sadness, such a despair to them. This was a woman who had lived with this guilt even as a child, and grown up with the pressure to be great. A woman who lived to be a servant to her father's legacy, or risk her mother's sacrifice made worthless. He touched her cheek tenderly again, and she sighed lightly, looking away.

"...Why did you... why did the girl not tell her husband of this?" he breathed, catching her attention again. "I didn't... or, rather... I'm certain her husband didn't know any of that."

"The girl was supposed to lead her clan, and such trifling matters have their place," she stated simply in response, forcing her voice to be emotionless. He swallowed, and pulled her towards him, embracing her tightly. She went rigid at first, but as her eyes closed, her arms snaked around him, she felt at home. Wanted. Loved. Her body relaxed into his, and she held him tight against her.

"It's not your fault," he breathed gently, and his eyes shut as he buried his face in her shoulder. "Ginchiyo, don't you dare think that it's your fault." As he spoke, he took even breaths, and a weight seemed to be lifted off his shoulders. He repeated it into her ear, slowly, gently, and hugged her tighter. "It's not your fault. It's not your fault."

"I want to believe it's not, I-"

"It's not your fault." His words drifted past her ear, and she finally broke. Ginchiyo buried her head in her husband's chest and cried. Every time he said it, over and over again, he had to fight back the desire to cry with her. What struck Muneshige the most was how powerful that phrase was. Enough that in consoling her, he was also consoling himself. "It's not your fault." _Muneshige_, he told himself. _It's not your fault either._

"It's not your fault either, Muneshige," Ginchiyo choked out between heaving sobs, and that did it. He finally broke. Muneshige held his wife close and cried into her shoulder.

"He didn't want me, Ginchiyo. I tried my hardest, but-"

"It's not your fault."

They sat there wordlessly, just sobbing into each other and ruminating on what the other had said to them. Even if it wasn't true, this moment revealed to them one thing-they had each other. All of the pent-up emotion they didn't know they shared was the only thing they needed to reassure them. They shared in their mental breakdown for what seemed like days, but was only a few minutes. As their cries died down, Ginchiyo managed to speak.

"It's not your fault, because your father loved you," she whispered, bringing his face to look her in the eye. Muneshige took a breath and attempted to say something, but it only came out as a small noise.

"B-but-" he managed to stutter out before she continued.

"It pained him to see you leave your clan and go on to your future as a Tachibana. He knew you had outgrown his legacy, and that you were someone he had no choice but to protect," she continued. Muneshige furrowed his brow, and breaking eye contact. Ginchiyo sighed. "His death, just as my mother's, was the ultimate expression of devotion. He died for you. He did not die because of you." She gently ghosted her fingers across his cheek, and he took her hand.

He smiled slightly, enough that Ginchiyo wouldn't have noticed it if she hadn't been searching for it as much as she was. "You are wise, my dear," he sighed, looking back out towards the sky. "It seems obvious, then, that I am unworthy of the name Tachibana. Or even Takahashi."

Ginchiyo squeezed his hand again. "Stop it," she begged.

He shook his head and continued. "Even more so if what you say is true. I failed to accept my father's sacrifice, and instead chose to resent him, and still shouldered the blame for his death. I am truly a bastard." He hung his head and began to laugh. Ginchiyo furrowed her brow and took a breath. The laugh wasn't lighthearted and happy as it usually was. It was desperate, as if he were trying to hold on to his composure, as if he finally realized the ridiculousness of the situation. As his laughter died down, he ran a shaky hand through his hair. "I deserve no name, and it seems at this rate, I always will."

Ginchiyo reached for him yet again and tucked a lock of his hair behind his ear, and her hand remained on his face. She brought her face closer to his, touching their foreheads together. "Not in my eyes."

They embraced tightly once again.


	5. Gardens

The sun beat down softly onto the two of them as they walked leisurely through the gardens outside the castle. Ginchiyo had been casting glances up at the sky, more interested in the small, shapely clouds peppering the vast blue sky above them. It was really a beautiful summer day outside, and she was thankful for her husband taking her for a walk out here… not that Ginchiyo would ever admit it. Muneshige kept his eyes rested upon the flowers. Not a word was spoken between them for a while—not until Ginchiyo broke the silence with a sigh. "I've never seen the appeal of flowers. They're just a bunch of weeds that are a massive inconvenience to water and only end up lasting for a year anyway."

"I think they're pretty."

"You would." A glance up at the sky, and Ginchiyo noticed something. "Hey," she said, attempting to hide her excitement at something so minute. "Look at that cloud."

Muneshige glanced up and followed her finger to where she was pointing. "Yes, I see it."

"It looks like a bunny rabbit."

"Not from this angle."

Ginchiyo frowned and pulled him closer to her. "See, try from this angle. It looks like a bunny rabbit."

Muneshige smirked. He loved it when she was riled up like this. "No, it looks like a cloud. But I suppose when you squint enough it looks a bit like a rabbit, yes." At Ginchiyo's frown, he laughed heartily. "I'm kidding. It looks like a rabbit."

"You're saying that so you don't make me mad, but it's too late for that."

"No, I'm not," Muneshige motioned with his finger toward the sky. "See, look. There's its ears. There's the nose, there's its eyes, and there's the fluffy little bunny tail." He glanced over at her. "You sure got excited over this, though, didn't you. You're adorable." He attempted to lace his fingers into hers, but she pulled away, red-faced, and resumed walking at a brisker pace than before, leaving him in her wake.

With a chuckle, he plucked a purple and yellow flower from the garden next to him. It reminded him of someone… he kept it in his hand, making a mental note to give it to her once they returned.


End file.
